Even if your mother couldn’t, you will.
I don’t know when I’ll see you again, but my door is always open.
Forgive me for not being the father you deserved.
I was lost in the dark for too many years.
All I wanted was to protect you.
But when I found out Balthazar was hunting you, I realized—I can’t protect you from a distance.
So, stay strong. Stay vigilant. Never give up.
I love you forever, my littlemoon.
Papa
Now I was ugly crying—huge, body-racking sobs that shook my ribcage and left me gasping for air.
Roman wrapped me up, pulling me against his chest, his arms a fortress around me. He stroked my hair, murmuring soft reassurances, his lips brushing my temple as he held me together.
When the sobs finally ebbed, I pulled away, my breath still uneven. “I read Mom’s journal.”
Roman brushed away my tears with his thumbs, his gaze steady. “Did you? What did you learn?”
I swallowed hard. “That she… she loved Balthazar. That she thought she could save him.” My brows knitted together. “I don’t get it.”
Roman tilted his head, considering. “Well… think about Malik. Look how close we are to him now.”
I shook my head vehemently. “They are not the same. Balthazar is a monster.”
“That’s true,” Roman admitted, his tone measured—his reasonable voice, which he used when trying to ground me. “But how do you know the journal is telling the truth?”
I frowned, worry curling in my stomach. “You’re right. Mom was… calculating. She kept secrets. She lied. But she’s been dead a long time.” My voice dropped. “Only time will tell if her words were true.”
Roman nodded.
I folded the letter carefully, wrapping it in the red silk before setting it beside the box of bullets. But just as my fingers left the fabric, a horrible realization crashed through me like a thunderclap.
My heart seized.
“Roman!”
His head snapped up, muscles going taut. “What?”
I spun toward him, my voice tight with panic. “Where is my dagger?”
Roman’s fingers clamped around my arms. “What do you mean?”
“My blade, Roman!” My breath came in frantic bursts, and my hands suddenly became ice cold. “I always keep it strapped to my leg. It’s gone. It’s not here.”
His expression darkened instantly. “Think. When did you last have it?”
I searched my foggy memory, my mind racing back through the chaos. The party. The fire. Balthazar. The escape. It all blurred together.
Then it hit me like a gut punch.
“I think…” My voice quivered. “I think we left it at Costa’s.”
